


Ordinary Boy

by burntcopper



Category: Dark Is Rising Sequence - Susan Cooper
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:21:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntcopper/pseuds/burntcopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bran visits Will in Oxford.  certain things get revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ordinary Boy

The boy strolling down the corridors of the college turned heads wherever he went. It wasn't the fact that he was handsome - in fact stunningly good-looking might be a better phrase to use - but rather the fact that he was stunning. Stunning in any company, bleached of all colour, the absence of it against his black clothing and sunglasses enough to make your eyes ache.

Some of the girls looked, then looked again, then again, and whispered to their friends about him. So did a few of the boys. "Wow. You think he's single?"

"If he is, there's something wrong in the world." They pause. "Unless, you know, he has the social skills of a hamster. Though it would have to be a very bad hamster."

"Serial killer hamster?" Their mate opines. "Mind you, I've known some very nice, sociable hamsters. We're talking a hamster cast out from society here."

"Would have to be it. Blokes that good-looking have to have something wrong with them. Probably has ugly eyes under the sunglasses."

"Probably."

He stops by one such group, and asks, strong Welsh accent evident as soon as he opens his mouth. "Excuse me, do you know where I can find Will Stanton? Languages, I believe."

"Stanton? Um, yeah, he's probably in the room a few doors down from the staircase on the left. Eastern Europe." they reply. "What do you want with him?"

"Good friends." The new lad says, smiling slightly and moving on.

"That's friends with Stanton? Stanton?" Will Stanton is mostly known for being exceedingly good at his chosen subject, which appears to be any and all languages ancient or modern, being nabbed on a regular basis by any other department that needs translation, and being a complete island of quiet and ordinariness otherwise. Has a distracted air about him almost constantly, completely unconcerned about your presence and probably wouldn't notice if a bomb went off right next to him. A girl tried asking him out, and merely got a distracted 'sorry, really a bit busy.' Said girl was very pretty and had a bit of a thing for those who weren't actually faking it when they spoke French in a bird's ear. Stanton completely ignored any further hints and put them down as her being friendly. Stanton's therefore been pegged as not connected with reality or the call of his hormones unlike the rest of his fellow students. Though rumours say he can drink anyone, absolutely anyone under the table. They can't find anyone to substantiate these rumours, but on the other hand, there's no-one to unsubstantiate them either. So the capacities of his liver remain like those of his libido, a mystery.

That is, until the Welsh lad arrived. He walks into the room Stanton's in, where he's discussing Russian with the other students in there, and coughs to get his attention. Will looks up, and it's like his face is bathed in sunshine, the change that's come over him on seeing his visitor. "See you came, then."

"Got some time off." The newcomer shrugs. "The letters were interesting, I'll give you that."

"Obviously." Will says. He steps forward, buries his hand in the new arrival's hair, and proceeds to snog the living daylights out of him. The Welsh boy's responding just as enthusiastically, and hands end up in interesting places. Two under clothing. "Missed you."

"I think that's certainly been proved." He smirks. "Care to take a walk?"

They disengage, and walk out, not touching but very close, brushing arms occasionally. The gossip fans out from their trail very quickly, as the doorway they were standing in whilst snogging opened onto a fairly busy corridor.

"Did you know he was gay?" Mark Halston asks Geoff Ashfield. They were in the same room as Will when he rather publically greeted his boyfriend. They had front seat viewing to the snog, which caused them to re-hinge their jaws once the couple had left.

"Which one? Stanton or his boyfriend?"

"Stanton, of course." Mark says, poking a Russian text sitting on the table next to his hand.

"I didn't even know Stanton knew he had a libido." Geoff says. He's still a bit shocked, since everyone thought Stanton was your archetypal buried in work type, destined for absent-minded professordom and tweed jackets. Not the type to have handsome boyfriends with exhibitionist tendencies.

"Seems he keeps it quiet whenever the boyfriend's not around. Christ, would you be interested in any other offers when you had that waiting for you?"

"What, are you gay or something now?"

"Don't be stupid. Anyone can see his other half turns heads no matter what. The whole albino thing alone's a head-turner."

Geoff folds his arms. "Long as he doesn't go after me."

Mark snorts. "Right, like he ever did before. What I want to know is how our perfectly normal and average Stanton, head constantly buried in the noble pursuit that is translation, got *that*."

Geoff can't let the opportunity for a really bad pun slide. "Cunning linguist?" Mark just groans in response.

One set of girls, to whom the gossip has reached before Stanton and boyfriend reach them, mournfully say "God, what a waste." as the couple pass.

The boyfriend tilts down his sunglasses to reveal eyes as golden as a cat's, and gazes at them levelly. "Trust me, it's not wasted." Will chuckles beside him and nudges him with his shoulder. He turns his head back to Will. "Well, I certainly don't intend on wasting any of it once I get you back to your bed."

"Bran..." Will chuckles, then jumps as Bran pinches his bum. "Bran!"

Bran grins and shoves him. "Just getting you to move faster."

\----

The next few days see several people turning corners to find Will and Bran snogging, or at least flirting and teasing each other verbally. Reports spread fast from the adjacent rooms in the building to Stanton's of what sounded like pretty good sex going on in there. As a result, the couple get stared at a lot as they walk round campus, since Bran's accompanying Will to most of his work and lectures, or either lazing in the weak spring sunshine or reading in unexpected corners when he's not. When Will's alone, everyone keeps sneaking glances at what seems to be the same old Stanton, except this one keeps grinning. Or humming. Not that he was dour before, but this whole new side to him is disturbing.

Down the pub, Bran and Will appear to have just as few qualms about being obvious as they did on university grounds, and when one of the more homophobic drinkers decides to challenge them on their presence, Bran says "Yes?"

"Don't take kindly to your sort in here."

"Will, you could've told me they didn't like the Welsh in here. I'd have been more offensive." Bran says, lowering his near-constantly worn sunglasses and staring coolly at the punter. "However, as for you, boyo, I could care less about whether you like me or not." He flicks his gaze up and down the man, dismissing him and turning back to his pint.

The punter taps him on his shoulder. " 'Ere, I'm talking to you."

Bran looks at Will. "Is there a fly near me? I keep hearing this annoying buzzing."

Will rolls his eyes. The punter turns a nasty shade of red, grabbing Bran to turn him round, his other hand coming in to punch him. Bran catches it, shifts his grip and then applies pressure to the man's joints, before shifting his hand to dig his fingers between the bones on the back of his hand, at the same time bending it back. The man howls in pain and sinks to his knees. Bran says calmly. "Really. Don't do that again." He releases the man's hand and turns back to the barmaid. "Same again, lovey. Will, were you wanting another?"

"Cheers." Will nods.

Bran goes after a week, and life around the languages department goes back to normal, though now everyone knows exactly why Will doesn't respond to any of the girls. However, it has crushed the dreams of a few of the lads who'd harboured some hopes about Will.

Geoff keeps a beady eye on Stanton, as do many others. But it's like the whirlwind that was Bran never happened. Stanton goes down the pub with everyone else and doesn't appear to change one bit. He completely ignores any overtures made to him, from the blatant to the hesitant flirting, except this time it's mostly restricted to blokes, as none but the most desperate girls try it on these days. Geoff pokes him the afternoon the Gay Soc stuck up posters on the main noticeboards in the faculty building about a meeting, when Will's absorbed in a text the archaeology lot have flung him. "Mmm?"

"You going to that meeting tonight?" Geoff asks.

"What meeting?" Stanton asks distractedly, keeping one finger on his place.

"The Gay Soc one? Y'know, the posters?"

Will blinks in surprise. "Why would I? Last I heard I was going down the pub with you lot."

"Well, you're 'out' now..." Geoff says hesitantly, still not entirely comfortable about it.

Will gives him a level gaze. "Never was in. When did I ever go before?"

"Er, never?" Geoff replies.

"Exactly." Will nods and goes back to his translation. Which seems to be the end of the topic, as far as Stanton's concerned. And that's the last time the topic ever gets discussed within Stanton's hearing in the languages department.

END


End file.
